


Cliché

by BladedFeather



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bucky is so clumsy, By a side character, Crack Treated Seriously, Doctor!Steve, Doctor/Patient, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Kittens, M/M, Mentions of past drug abuse, Natasha Is a Good Bro, Past Domestic Violence, Steve Rogers is Sunshine, Teacher!Bucky, kind of, someone help this boy, traumatized bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-04 04:05:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5319812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BladedFeather/pseuds/BladedFeather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky is literally a walking disaster. Natasha is a Hospital visit away from just wrapping him in bubble wrap. Luckily, Bucky has a good doctor.</p><p> </p><p>Or: A love story through several trips to the ER, one dinner date, and feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was _supposed_ to be about 4k of nice fluffy crack. Somehow it became 10k crack-masquerading-as real fic-through feelings. As the title would suggest this is shamelessly every cliché my little heart desired to shove into one fic. Again, feelings and angst happened and if you didn't catch it in the tags there is a description of past domestic violence in here. It's toward the end but please stay safe if that's something you need to avoid. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! <3

Amazingly, Natasha retains her smug smile throughout the entire ride to the Hospital. Bucky can only suffer through it in silence, because she had totally called it, and by now he should really know better than to bet against her.

"Okay. Fine." Bucky grits out, clutching his left arm and refusing to look his best friend in the eye. The only response he gets is a slight chuckle, more an exhale of air than anything.

"Not good enough Barnes. I'm gonna need you to say it." The air in the car is tense and silent for several minutes before Bucky finally cracks.

"You were right." The sigh that rides on his words is all but drowned out by Natasha's giggling, and Bucky tries to look put off. "Really? I'm over here, seriously injured, and you're laughing at me?"

Even while driving, Natasha still manages to give Bucky her most unimpressed stare until she ruins it by laughing at him again, "A tree. You fell out of a tree, Bucky." 

Bucky just rolls his eyes, but ends up smiling himself. It was after all, ridiculous.

*

Bucky checks into the ER with no trouble, nodding when the nurse informs him that a doctor would be along shortly. Natasha waits with him for a few minutes, then decides to raid the vending machine, leaving Bucky alone to deal with the waiting room.

When he's finally called back, after what feels like a small eternity, he dutifully follows a different nurse into a tiny room, swinging his legs and wondering if Natasha would track him down or wait outside. His musings are interrupted when the door swings open,

"James Barnes?" The doctor inquires politely, and Jesus he's young for a doctor, and hot in every single cliche doctor way Bucky's ever heard. With a smile that radiates comfort and the desire to help. Not to mention the blond hair, blue eyes, and shoulders broad enough to hold all of the sinful thoughts Bucky's currently drowning in. Wrapped up in his own thoughts the only intelligent thing Bucky manages to get out is,

"Bucky. It's um, I actually go by Bucky..." The Doctor nods with a pleasant smile but doesn't pause scribbling in his chart,

"Well then, it's nice to meet you, Bucky. " Bucky decides that this doctor is a great improvement on all the ones he's had in the past. Especially the therapist that insisted on calling him Jimmy for reasons he still didn't understand. Natasha chooses that moment to slip through the door, and plasters on her most official smile at the doctor's questioning glance,

"I'm Natasha, and I'm here for my best friend's moral support and embarrassment." The Doctor honest to God grins at her before shaking her hand and introducing himself in kind,

"Well then Natasha, it's nice to meet you, I'm Dr. Steve Rogers, and on that subject, what seems to be the problem today?" Bucky finds himself drifting a little and utterly fails to catch the verbal prompt, and coughs to try and hide his embarrassment,

"It's...uh...okay, um I think I fractured my arm? I don't think I broke it really, I just...it hurts to move it..." Bucky finishes lamely, wincing when he really does try to move his arm and it sends a stab of pain up his forearm. Concern immediately floods Dr. Rogers' face and in a few quick strides he's gently taking Bucky's arm in his hands.

With a considering hum he prods at Bucky's arm very carefully, each time asking how much it hurts. Bucky valiantly ignores that he can count Dr. Rogers' eyelashes, and answers when prompted.

"Well Bucky, from what I can judge so far there isn't terribly extensive damage, and after we get an X-Ray I can let you know for sure whether you'll need a sling or a cast." Dr. Rogers stops, smiling sympathetically at Bucky's groan when a cast is mentioned, "On the bright side, I can say with certainty you won't need any surgery, it's pretty minor...and if I may ask, how exactly did this happen?"

Natasha takes that as her cue to start laughing again in the corner of the room, putting her phone down long enough to stare at Bucky with expectant eyes. "Go ahead Barnes, tell him what happened." Bucky tries to burn holes through Natasha with his eyes and when that fails he's left to stutter out an explanation to a faintly smiling Dr. Rogers.

"Well um. I." Bucky huffs out an irritated breath before rolling his eyes, "I was trying to help this stray little kitten down from a tree and....well....I sort of...fell out of it." Bucky doesn't want to look up, especially when Natasha feels the need to intercede,

"Astoundingly unceremoniously too, for someone who used to do dance." Natasha has her most secretive smile on her face, and she looks like the cat that got the cream. Bucky meanwhile, is conveying death and bodily harm with his eyes. Their intense battle of wills is interrupted by a soft laugh and Bucky wants to die from the weight of embarrassment,

"Well, is the kitten safe at least?" The question surprises Bucky, and he rubs the back of his neck, smiling and thinking of the tiny bit of golden fluff sitting in his apartment,

"Yeah she's alright, feisty little punk though." He mutters, and is this time rewarded with a smile full of absolute sunshine from Dr. Rogers, it makes his eyes crinkle.

As soon as Dr. Rogers leaves to set up the X-Ray Natasha give him the look. Bucky just ignores it and thunks his head off the wall.

"Matchmake me later, Romanoff, and be a little more realistic while you're at it." But Natasha is a force of nature, and simply continues to give him the Look. Bucky spends the rest of the ER visit ignoring it and almost crying with joy when he's presented with a sling instead of a cast.

"Lay off the superhero work for a bit, okay?" Dr. Rogers directs, smirk surprising Bucky as he carefully helped him secure the sling to his left arm. Bucky can't help but grin back and nod.

*

"You know, Natasha is going to kill you."

Bucky huffs and slides farther down in the uncomfortable plastic hospital chair.

"It was an accident." Bucky all but whines, and Bruce just looks at him. Sometimes, like now, Bucky curses Bruce's ability to be utterly matter of fact and calm.

"True. But Natasha has a thing about you getting hurt twice in the space of three weeks. Namely, that you shouldn't." Taking out his phone, Bruce looks at it meaningfully, "So either you tell her, or I will. Because she worries about you, and it's with good reason." Bucky sighs and rubs his eyes, sling chafing uncomfortably.

"I know I know. I just....hate worrying her you know? After..." Shaking his head Bucky trails off, head pounding. Bruce puts a hand on his uninjured shoulder,

"It can wait until after we get this looked at, but seriously, you have got to be more careful. I still don't understand how you managed-" Bruce's sentence comes to a complete and utter halt, and Bucky removes the hands from his eyes in time to see horror bloom across Bruce's usually passive face, "James. How have you failed to notice, that you are bleeding. Excessively."

Brows knitting in confusion, Bucky looks down at his jeans, and just stares for a minute at the dark spot of blood, which had not been there the last time he'd looked. It feels like an out of body experience as he gently moves his shredded jeans out of the way.

"Huh." He mutters, staring at the piece of glass sticking out of his calf. Dimly, he notes the jagged cut behind it, and connects the dots that he must have made it worse, hence the blood. With another thoughtful 'huh', Bucky promptly passes out.

*

When Bucky wakes up, he blinks hard before his vision focuses on bright red hair. Natasha is curled into the chair by the bed, arms hugging her legs to her chest and staring at him.

"Okay, before you start, it was an accident." Natasha just stares at him some more. Bucky stares back, until Natasha closes her eyes and sets her jaw.

"I know it was an accident Bucky. But for Christ's sake, call me before passing out in the Emergency Room, please?" When Natasha opens her eyes, they shine a little; Bucky doesn't mention it, tries to grin bravely.

"Will do, Ma'am." He throws in a lazy salute that earns him a smile, and it's enough. Looking down at his leg, he takes a deep breath, "Lay it on me, what's the damage?" Natasha opens her mouth, before thinking of something better and instead standing, winking at him as she goes.

Bucky is not at all prepared for Dr. Rogers to enter the room behind Natasha, and he's very medicated, even though his leg hurts, he feels kinda floaty. All of these things are the worst possible combination against blue eyes just as pretty as the last time.

"I would say it's nice to see you again Bucky, but..." Dr. Rogers has the ghost of a smile playing on his lips, and Bucky swallows before giving a shy grin in return.

"I know what you mean Doc. Am I gonna make it?" Bucky pretends to hold his breath in fear, and laughs when it makes the heart monitor jump. Dr. Rogers actually rolls his eyes at him,

"Well the worst news I've got for you is ten stitches, and some minor blood loss. Other than that, I think you'll pull through." When Bucky lets out an exaggerated sigh, he's extremely pleased that it's a feasible excuse for his high heart rate. It would be madness of course, to assume that Dr. Rogers sunshine smile could be the cause. Madness.

Bucky is sent home a few hours later, with strict instructions to not show up back in the Hospital for at least two weeks.

*

It's only a few days later that Bucky ends up back at the Hospital. This time for re-opening his stitches lifting things for old Mrs. Henderson down the hall.

Two weeks after that it's for slipping on the fresh ice and spraining his right wrist.

It's a grand total of three days after his wrist that Bucky breaks a rib. The universe is laughing at him. Natasha is on the verge of killing him herself.

"I'm just extremely unlucky, okay?" Bucky huffs, and then winces as his side sparks with pain. Natasha looks upward for a moment, as if asking a higher power for strength.

"You're the clumsiest human alive, I know this already. There's something else though." Natasha is staring at him in the way that always makes him feel like she can see into the depths of his soul, and she reads him well enough that it's practically true. Bucky bites the inside of his cheek, before aborting mid-sigh with a hiss of pain.

"I'm sorry Nat. I mean, they were all accidents, but I guess I could be paying more attention." And it's true. Bucky knows he's been spaced out more than usual, and he feels more than a little offended that the universe took his lapse of focus as open invitation to beat the crap out of him. Natasha's expression crumbles a little, in the way that only he can notice, and he braces himself for the guilt she's going to heap on her own shoulders when the door opens.

Dr. Rogers gets halfway through the door before stopping in his tracks. Staring at Bucky, "Alright, that's it, I'm concerned." Bucky grins at him, though it falls a little short.

"What can I say, I missed you." The blatant flirting was a thing that had started, and Bucky wasn't quite sure how he felt about it yet. Dr. Rogers was grinning, Bucky could tell, but he hid it by turning to grab some paperwork, which reminded Bucky, "Here I'll save you some time, I think I broke a rib, on a scale of 1-10 it's around a 13 as long as I don't laugh."

While Rogers wasn't always his Doctor for his recently frequent visits, it seemed that word traveled fast.

"Ah okay. I'll just add that to your honestly alarming list of injuries in the last two months. Your arm, from saving a kitten. Leg from helping someone catch up on work and tripping into a window. Stitches for helping the elderly, wrist from ice, and last but not least a possible break or fracture to your ribs." Dr. Rogers stops, looks up at him from his clipboard expectantly, "How if I may ask, did you do this? Are you actually a superhero? Because..." He lets the sentence hang and Bucky can feel his face heating up just a little.

Natasha answers for him, "Bucky decided he was okay enough to try Parkour."

After an initial flash of disapproval, the physical effort it seemed to be taking Dr. Rogers not to laugh appeared immense, from the way his shoulders hitched in little aborted movements.

"I don't know how she trusts you out of the house." Dr. Rogers finally manages and Bucky pouts at both of them.

"Doctor, I'm tempted to hire someone to watch him." Natasha sounds way more exasperated than was entirely necessary, and Bucky sulks his way through the entire examination.

Just as things are wrapping up and he's finally on pain medication, Dr. Rogers smiles as he hands him the prescription, handwriting not only legible but elegant.

"Seriously though, we have to stop meeting like this." Bucky does not hope. He does the exact opposite. Quickly sends a silent prayer of 'thank you' that Natasha had left the room to call Clint. She would've never let that go. So Bucky grins with confidence he doesn't feel or have honestly,

"Well Doctor, I'm open to literally any suggestion that keeps me from ending up back here." He quips, handing back the clipboard and trying to decide if this is all going to blow up in his face or not.

There's a beat of silence and Bucky wants to hide under the table when Dr. Rogers puts a hand on his hip, cocking his head to the side in thought.

"Well. Dinner is always better than the Hospital. Food here is terrible." The world seems to evaporate around Bucky, and it's probably just the pain meds, all of it must be, or he finally hit his head too hard or...

"Wait, really?" The look Dr. Rogers gives him is downright mischievous,

"You know, my friend Sam told me about this nice little Italian joint right off of 3rd street. I've been meaning to try it..."

Bucky left with an overbearing Natasha, pain medication, and a hastily scribbled phone number.

*

It takes Bucky a good day and a half to actually use the number Steve gave him. While it still feels a bit alien to use Steve's first name, it gives him a little thrill every time.

Natasha calls him a schoolgirl.

Natasha also is the force of nature that finally gets him to send a tentative 'Hi, It's Bucky Barnes.' to Steve. She is also the patient although slightly condescending support system that gets him through a mild panic about whether or not he should've used his first name, or if he sounded stupid, or a million other ridiculous things he comes up with to inevitably try and talk himself out of it.

He'd been out of the game for...awhile.

Natasha just gives him a look every time he gets panicky for no reason, saint that she is.

The text conversation that follows is actually kind of sweet, and Bucky finds himself grinning at his phone like an idiot, and then holding it a little too tight when Steve asks about the dinner he'd mentioned earlier.

Bucky panics. Natasha deals with him

The Italian Place, as it turns out, is called Mrs. Maniaci's, and the food is _wonderful_.

Bucky spends entirely too long wondering what to wear. Spends way too much time looking in the mirror and re-adjusting his dark blue dress shirt. Attempts to change for the fourth time before Natasha strong-arms him away from the wardrobe.

The date, overall, goes much better than Bucky could've ever hope for.

*

Bucky showed up a good twenty minutes early, and was pleasantly surprised to find that Steve had too.

To say that Steve cleaned up nice, would be a gross understatement. Bucky was at a loss for words the moment he looked across the parking lot and was met with carefully styled blond hair, a white dress shirt that nicely complimented his broad shoulders, and of all things, flowers.

Bucky had accepted the flowers and was so touched by them it was probably a little ridiculous, but no one had given him flowers in....ever really. Especially not his last boyfriend.

"It's good to see you made it here in one piece." Steve cracked playfully after presenting him with the flowers (beautiful and assorted wildflowers, no less). The initial awkwardness between them fell away easily with that, and Bucky didn't bother to stop his startled laughter when Steve offered his arm.

The restaurant had a pleasant and cozy feel to it, and they ended up tucked into the back corner. Bucky couldn't remember the last time he got along with someone as easily as he did Steve. Natasha and Clint notwithstanding.

Conversation flowed smoothly, from one thing to another, from where they grew up (quite close actually), to what they did earlier in life, and finally, what they did for a living.

"I'm a history teacher." Bucky had laughed at the poorly hidden surprise on Steve's face, "I mean, you didn't really think I was a superhero, right?" To Bucky's delight, Steve actually blushed.

"I just didn't..." He trailed off and Bucky got a knowing, if rueful, smile,

"...think I was a lame high school teacher? Don't worry, you're not the first." Bucky didn't even finish his sentence before Steve's expression had shifted into a frown,

"It was just unexpected is all. What's wrong with being a teacher? You impact kids lives on a daily basis. Your job is so important, and more people need to recognize that, and stop looking down on people who teach for a living when they do so much....-" Steve stopped when Bucky gently put a hand on his arm, and even though he blushed he still retained a look of earnest determination. Bucky had felt a sharp tug in his chest,

"Hey, you're preaching to the choir. I'm just not used to people taking it seriously you know? They hear 'High School History Teacher' and immediately brush me off as someone who doesn't really care." Bucky stopped, looked away from Steve to fiddle with his napkin, "They don't ever stop to consider that I might actually care about my job. That it isn't just something I decided to do because it was a last resort. I care about my kids, every single one of them, and it's. Ah, it sounds stupid..." Bucky shook his head, rueful smile back. Steve still looked completely serious and motioned for Bucky to continue, which he did after taking a minute to gather his thoughts, "If I can help them in any way, then it's good enough for me. If even one kid leaves there having had a better day because they enjoyed my class, then that's all that really matters."

Steve had looked at Bucky intently, with something undefinable in his eyes, but a moment later it was gone with the arrival of desert, and Steve had been back to smiling.

Sooner than Bucky had thought possible, Steve was insisting vehemently to pay, and honest to God walking him to his car.

Bucky leaned against the driver side door, and just looked at the way the harsh street lights lit up Steve's golden hair, like a halo. For the first time in a long time, Bucky wanted.

"I had a good time tonight." Bucky aimed for suave, and probably missed by a mile.

Steve didn't seem to notice at all, face lighting up in a grin,

"Then I take it you'd like to do this again sometime?" Steve stepped a little closer, and Bucky licked his lips and tried to hide his nerves.

"Only if I get to take you out this time." It had been like gravity, Steve took another step and suddenly the cold night air on Bucky's front was replaced by the heat of his body, and Bucky had been wholly unprepared to answer Steve's soft, 'May I kiss you?' with anything other than a dazed nod.

The thousand anxieties running through Bucky's head had come to a grinding halt when Steve closed the few inches between them and gently cupped the side of his jaw.

It was a chaste, closed mouth press of lips but when Steve stepped away, blush high on his cheeks, Bucky had been a little shell shocked.

With a soft goodbye and the promise to call, Steve's figure disappeared in the gloom. Bucky had stared after him like the pathetic schoolgirl Natasha said he was.

*

Rolling onto his front, Clint props his chin in his palms and swings his legs.

"Come oooooooon. Tell me all about it." He even flutters his eyelashes. Bucky snorts in disgust, ignoring him in favor of grading some quizzes. Natasha appears from exactly nowhere, and gracefully settles herself on Clint's back. Bucky grins in satisfaction at the grunt of discomfort from Clint as his rib cage is crushed.

Bucky had been peacefully getting though his metric fuckton of work when his friends had decided to invade his home.

"Don't you guys have jobs to be doing, or something?" It was a weak attempt, but he had to try. Natasha and Clint both worked for the Government, and very rarely could share with Bucky when they had to be gone. Clint just tuts, and manages to prop himself back up even with Natasha on his back. Which, all things considered wasn't that much of a feat, Natasha was tiny.

"Work is for suckers, like you." Clint teases, and Bucky manfully resists throwing things at him, "'Sides, I wanna hear about this Doctor boy that's got you doing heart eyes."

"I am not 'doing heart eyes'. That doesn't even make sense?" It was hopeless, Bucky knew, but he had to at least go down swinging.

"C'mon Barnes." Natasha's smug voice finally joining the fray meant that Bucky was truly doomed, and had to talk about it. "You spent a good two hours freaking out before hand, you have to tell me if my patience was worth it."

Papers scatter across the desk as Bucky throws up his hands in honestly exaggerated frustration. His friends were annoying, but it was nice to feel normal again.

"Okay fine." He sighs, rolling his eyes, "What do you want to know?"

"Did you make it to third base?" Clint's face doesn't even twitch, just deadpan seriousness. Bucky can only gape at him.

"No!" He splutters and turns a little pink when he considers that a lot of people nowadays generally do have sex on the first date, "No...it was just....it was really nice." Natasha sits up enough to dig her knees into a painful spot on Clint's spine before smiling at Bucky encouragingly,

"He seemed really sweet, always tried to call me 'ma'am'." Natasha adds and the grin on Bucky's face must be a little dopey, because Natasha's smirk comes back in force.

"Yeah it was kinda like that." Bucky clears his throat and bites his lip, "He even got me flowers, not just like roses either, like honest-to-God 'I went to a meadow specifically to get you flowers' thing."

Clint's snickers are nearly drowned out by Natasha's 'awwe'.

"The real question is, would you go on another date?" Both of his friends lean forward at Clint's question and Bucky stands up to try and wrangle the papers all over his desk.

"You know what? Yeah." Natasha later informs him that he is terrible at hiding his emotions and that the smile on his face was sappy.

Bucky doesn't even mind.

*

Over the next few weeks, Bucky desperately hopes that he's not boring Steve at the absolutely glacial pace they're taking it, and is loathe for it to be questioned. Luckily, either Steve can tell that while Bucky is interested (to an increasingly alarming amount) and just wants to take it slow, he never pushes it.

Bucky does in fact take him out, and Steve doesn't even bat an eyelash when for some reason Bucky decides they should go to a drive-in and then immediately regrets it when he remembers what drive-in's are usually reserved for. Steve had just turned to him with a massive grin and breathed,

"I've _always_ wanted to go to one of these!" The night had gone perfectly fine. Bucky had ended up with his head pillowed on Steve's shoulder, and really, he's only human, the temptation was too much. Steve didn't even look disappointed when Bucky pulled away after a good forty minutes of intense making out, trying to hide the blush that was half embarrassment half anger at himself. All Steve did was grin and kiss the top of his hair, letting Bucky tuck himself back under his arm.

It's surreal. Half of the time Bucky can't believe he managed to get so lucky. Steve is a perfect gentleman, like...always. Not to mention basically the most earnest and true person Bucky's ever met. Even if he is occasionally a little shit, which Bucky had found out during one of their newly annual Netflix Saturdays. For example, cold feet being shoved under his thighs. He was everything Bucky had ever really let himself hope for.

Bucky's even only manages to end up in the hospital once since they started going out.

*

The apartment that Bucky calls home is conveniently close to a cozy little coffee place, and it was absolutely not a selling point. (He's allowed to lie to himself sometimes). All of the Barista's know him by name, and greet him with a friendly 'James!' every time he shows up, which is sometimes several times a day, especially around finals. The other convenience to being known (and hopefully liked) at your favorite coffee shop is that they'll give you your regular on default. It honestly saves a lot of time.

Bucky's just gotten tucked into his little nook in the back of the shop, his favorite blue sweater whose sleeves were too long truly cementing the 'homey' atmosphere of the place and all his work laid out, when he looks up and spots Steve.

Even though they text ( a lot) work for both of them had picked up, which is to be expected for Bucky this time of year, but with Steve's line of work he can never predict what will happen next, and they hadn't actually seen each other for a few weeks.

It's clear that Steve's tired, the circles under his eyes getting closer to looking like bruises, and he's still got his lanyard on. Even disheveled as he is, Steve manages to look beautiful in winter gear and clothes that don't match whatsoever. Bucky smiles to himself and starts to get up when the door opens and Steve turns, smile lighting up his face.

The man that greets him in a hug is smiling hugely, obviously thrilled to see Steve. They break apart and start talking animatedly, gesturing like crazy at one another. Whatever it is he's saying the other man finds it a little ridiculous and rolls his eyes before pulling Steve out of the coffee shop.

Bucky sits back down from where he was about to get up and goes back to his work. He'll text Steve later. Besides, that guy is totally just Steve's good friend. And Bucky sure as hell wasn't the type of guy to not allow his significant other to have friends. It's not like he let them really put a label on it or anything either. Bucky tells himself he's being stupid and just goes back to grading.

When none of his grand total of two texts get answered Bucky again reminds himself that he's being dumb, and ignores it.

In fact, Bucky continues to ignore it until his 3rd hour class questions him two weeks later. _His students._

"Mr. Barnes, you okay?" It's Heather, in the back row, leaning forward in her seat a little and frowning. While Bucky loves all of his classes, his 3rd period held a special place in his heart. They were smart kids, all of them. They were witty and inquisitive and seemed to really enjoy the lessons and his teaching. They were also assholes sometimes.

Bucky had finished with notes for the day, and with Christmas coming up in a few weeks, thought they deserved a little time to relax, or work on other stuff. He was not prepared to get questioned.

"Yeah I'm good, thank you." It was his standard response to questions like that when he was basically not listening and doing something else, but didn't want to be rude to the kid. Although, he could sort of feel the attention in the room shift, and suddenly all 15 of his students were staring at him.

"No like," Another student, Paige, started, "Are you....okay okay. You know?" While Bucky refused to think of himself as old, he did admit he was pretty confused on what that meant. Like at all.

"Uh...I mean, yes...I think?" Bucky was increasingly confused as to what they were talking about. He also notices he doesn't see one kid with their phone in their hand. Which is either the sign of the rapture, or that they find something else more interesting. Meaning him. Which wasn't good....he didn't think.

"It's just that you were like, all happy and stuff, but for the past two weeks, you've been kinda..." Daniel trails off and Hunter helps him out,

"Really fu-reaking sad." Bucky gives him _'The Look'_ about almost cursing, but Hunter simply shrugs and gives _Bucky_ a pointed look.

Bucky tries not to look startled by their pointed questions and leans back in his chair, tugging at his tie a little, "Wow, is this what I get for giving you guys free time?" The kids don't even bat an eyelash, just look at him. Finally, Bucky just rolls his eyes, "Some stuff happened, _grown up stuff._ I'm a little bummed out about it." Bucky can't really suppress a grin at the out-rage when he says, 'grown-up stuff'.

"Does it have anything to do with the flowers we totally saw get delivered to the office for you that one week?" Bucky is stunned into silence. One because they notice way more than he had previously given them credit for. Two, because it was little Beth in the corner that had spoken up, who was shy and sweet and never said anything. (Bucky refused to pull that 'classroom involvement' shit because it was obvious she just _didn't_ want to answer in front of the class.)

Buck sat up with a loud exhale, frowning for a minute. "Okay," He started, raising an eyebrow at his class, "What makes you think it has anything to do with that?" It was honestly a little amusing when they all groaned in exasperation.

"Mr. Barnes, why _wouldn't_ it be that?" Cecilia sounded honestly offended that Bucky thought they were so unperceptive, "Even before those flowers showed up you were grinning like _all_ the time. More than usual." The whole class nods and hums in agreement, staring judgmentally at Bucky until he finally gives up, raising his hands,

"So what if it is related?" He challenges them, and Beth sighs, frowning,

"What happened? Like did you get dumped? Because let me just say that if they did dump you, they're stupid." There is a chorus of assent and Bucky finds himself smiling a little, rolling his eyes.

"You're all pretty nosey, you know that?" The kids laugh but even as the bell rings and they file out they tell Bucky how anyone who broke up with him is stupid and it was their loss. Someone even leaves an apple on his desk.

*

Even with the sweet things his students do for him nearly every day, another two days go by and Bucky cannot help moping. In hindsight it was probably dumb on his part, Steve was a Doctor, he had things going for him and a successful future and why would he even want to be with Bucky in the first place? What with how slow Bucky was making him take it, because of the baggage Steve doesn't even know about yet from his shitty Ex.

Sunday night finds Bucky drowning in his misery, wondering what could've been. All attempts at logic have failed, and okay, he hadn't sent Steve anymore texts after the first two, but Steve would've replied to those if he had wanted anything to do with him. Curled up on the couch carefully away from the side that had steadily been on it's way to becoming Steve's, Bucky tries not to dwell on it. Tries to remind himself they hadn't even been dating that long.

It was impossible though, to ignore the ache in his chest when he walks through his apartment and notices little things, that either actually were Steve's (a pencil he had forgotten, a T-shirt) or just the ways the apartment had started to change to accommodate them both. Early on Bucky had found out that Steve lived with a friend, and while Steve said the house was nice, Steve claimed to prefer Bucky's apartment.

Bucky ignores another text from Natasha and gives up, laying on Steve's side of the couch and feeling utterly pathetic.

*

Monday decides to be as terrible as possible. From the moment Bucky walks outside he was being pelted by rain, and his normally pleasant commute becomes soggy and miserable.

Then, a few feet from the school, Bucky manages to trip on a random bottle, leaving his ankle burning whenever he puts weight on it. To add insult to injury as he limps into class he drops all of his carefully organized papers everywhere, ensuring his lunch period would be nothing but trying to put everything back where it belonged.

Luckily his mood was terrible enough that none of his students even thought about acting out. Mid-way through the day it actually started to make him feel bad, because word traveled fast and everyone, even other teachers, were dead silent around him.

Everyone except Tony.

"So, I heard from the kiddos that you've developed your own personal rain cloud, what gives?" It would be a cold day in hell when Anthony Stark learned to mind his own business. Bucky ignores him, a useless tactic, and goes back to staring at his food and violently stabbing a noodle.

"Yeah, they all seem pretty worried about you James." Bucky just shrugs, unwilling to give up anything. Natasha and Maria Hill were close, and while Bucky knew it must be pissing Natasha off, wherever she was, he didn't feel like talking about his most recent disappointment.

"Your inner turmoil or whatever is disrupting my classes. Some kid almost set themselves on fire during a lab because they were too busy trying to figure out what jackass dumped you." It was as close to concern as Tony was ever going to get, but the last part made Bucky narrow his eyes. Before he could tell Tony to back off, Maria interrupted,

"Tony's not actually lying to get you to tell us. I've had seven kids come into the office today and ask me who sent you those flowers." Maria is staring at him intently and Bucky can't decide between being touched that his students care so much or vaguely worried. Maria rolls her eyes at him, "I didn't actually tell them. They have big hearts, and they're not the only ones that want to-"

Bucky stands up before she can finish, throwing his colleagues (and occasionally friends) the fakest smile probably in history, "If you'll excuse me, I have some stuff to grade." It's a lame excuse, but he manages to get out of the teachers lounge.

It doesn't save him from Tony yelling, "Don't think we won't tell Natasha on you!"

*

When the final bell rings, Bucky slumps down in his chair and stares at the ceiling for awhile. Although the kids had been hellbent on finding out who had so clearly broken their history teacher's heart, none of them had said anything. They had practically been angels. It was exhausting in its own way.

Bucky is slow in gathering up his things, feeling way more weary than is entirely appropriate for his age. It's probably why he doesn't notice some of his students hiding behind a telephone poll, utterly indifferent about the rain.

The icing on the cake for Bucky is that he had forgotten his umbrella, and now had to deal with getting utterly soaked again, especially considering he now had a bit of a limp. Bucky is just eternally glad that this is probably the last time it would rain this year before it snowed.

"I think you should get that checked out."

Bucky stopped walking entirely. Leaning against the side of a building with an over sized umbrella, is Steve; smiling tiredly at him with one hand buried in jeans that Bucky recognizes as his favorite.

First and foremost, Bucky wants to be angry. He wants to stomp up to Steve and demand to know why he hadn't texted him these last two weeks, demand to know what was happening between them.

Second he wants to hide. Steve having ignored him for those two weeks had made Bucky realize just how much he actually cared about him. How much Steve had become part of his routine, his life.

Bucky ends up doing neither of those things and just freezing in the middle of the sidewalk and staring. Bucky is sure that he would've probably just done that forever if not for Steve walking over quickly, shielding him from the rain with his umbrella.

"Look I know I've been stupid, and I can explain. Let's just get you out of the rain, you'll catch your death." Up close Bucky is shocked to see just how bad the bags under Steve's eyes were. What had looked bad at the coffee shop was nothing compared to the bone-deep exhaustion there now.

The little anxious voice that follows Bucky everywhere reminds him that Steve had left. That Steve potentially was about to let him down easy.

Bucky finds it easier than ever before to push aside that little anxious niggling when faced with how unbelievable earnest Steve Rogers is.

"Alright, come on then, I hate the cold."

*

The apartment door shutting sounds ominously loud for some reason. Bucky quickly excuses himself to put up his stuff in his room, and takes a minute to try and figure out what he wants from this conversation. He also stops to pet Punk, the little kitten seeming to pick up on his anxiety and rubbing against his ankles insistently. Which brings his attention back to the burning pain in his ankle, lesser now, a good sign that he had just rolled it. By the time he's leaving his room he still doesn't have an answer for himself, walking back into the living room, to find Steve pacing.

"Bucky before you say anything, I'm sorry." Steve stops pacing and spreads his hands out, looking every bit genuinely regretful. "There was an emergency at the Hospital, and they were really understaffed. I let work get in the way, and I'm sorry."

Bucky twists his hands, watching the dejected line of Steve's shoulders, and suddenly feels like the world's biggest asshole. "Look...I shouldn't have gotten so worked up about it. You were just trying to help people. I just thought, you know, that you didn't..." Bucky folds his arms, as if trying to shield himself from the conversation.

"It was two weeks Bucky. I should've found the time to at least text you. I know just sending a message through a friend probably wasn't enough to stop you from thinking the wrong thing." Right now, Steve looks tiny, and there's a feeling of badwrong brewing behind Bucky's sternum with the knowledge that he was the cause of it.

"A message?" Just like always with them, it's like gravity. Steve took a few careful steps forward, like he was worried Bucky would shove him away, and the confusion was clear as day when Bucky looked up.

"I asked my friend Pietro to let you know that I was caught up at work, but I'd see you soon?" Steve looks crestfallen when Bucky shakes his head. Steve's mistake dawns on Bucky almost immediately.

"Did you tell him to use my first name?" At Steve's hesitant nod Bucky gives a quiet laugh, resting his hands on Steve's chest, "There are literally five other guys named 'James' who work at my school." Steve pouts at being laughed at, but is smiling softly at him when Bucky looks up again.

"I can't believe you thought..." Steve starts, his expression much more tender than Bucky was prepared for, and it makes his heart do stupid things in his chest. It had only been two months, and although a determined yet terrified part of himself, recoiled at the thought, Bucky was pretty sure he was in love. Steve shakes his head once, and then carefully, always so gentle, holds Bucky's face in his hands, catching his mouth in a kiss. Steve breaks the kiss, but doesn't let go, instead leaving their foreheads resting together.

For a moment all they do is look at each other, the space between them warm with their shared breath. Bucky can see it in Steve's eyes, what he's about to say, what he's trying to decide if he even _should_ say. Bucky squeezes his eyes shut, takes a deep breath and blurts out,

"I love you." There is exactly zero elegance in it's delivery, and Bucky cringes for a minute before Steve is there again, although this time the kiss is a little more heated. So of course Bucky cries. Steve makes a distressed noise, pulling away sharply and it only makes it worse. Bucky clutches pathetically at the front of Steve's shirt, reminding him that his own clothes are still wet. "Please don't." There's more but it's all Bucky can get out, and it has the desired effect, Steve comes back, this time wrapping his arms around Bucky's shoulders and pulling him in.

In honesty, Bucky clings to him like a safety blanket. He knows now that he's going to have to tell Steve about his gigantic issues, because it's really really not normal to cry after telling someone you love them. But for the moment he just nuzzles under Steve's jaw and breathes him in. It's calming and centering, and it helps him deal with the sick feeling of cold fear in his body. After a few minutes Bucky can feel his breathing start to level out, starts to relax when there's no sharp pain from being hit, when there's no insults hurled his way.

Steve seems to notice too, and very gently, broadcasting all of his movements, starts to walk Bucky to his bedroom. By the time they get there, Bucky no longer feels like he's shaking apart, but his ankle flat out burns.

"You okay, Buck?" Steve's voice catches a little and it almost makes Bucky cry more, but he bites his lip and nods back. Even with the exhaustion in his eyes from a basically endless shift at the hospital, Steve carefully gets him out of his wet clothes, the only indication he'd noticed the scar on Bucky's shoulder a brief widening of his eyes.

When they crawl into bed Bucky almost doesn't want to face Steve. Almost can't. He'd let himself get into a jealous snit over nothing, over Steve doing his goddamn job. Then he went and basically laid out all of the reasons he was a fucking disaster, and put out a giant neon sign that read, "Not only do I fail to avoid nearly grievous injury at all times, I also have so much emotional baggage that only two of my friends can actually handle it and hang out with me on a regular basis."

Steve doesn't give him the chance, nestles in close and takes his hands in the near-dark, the only light coming from the street lights through the windows. Even with the gesture of affection Bucky can't help but think that Steve is such a nice guy that he's gonna make sure Bucky's okay and then let him down easy. It's devastating.

"So, your friend Natasha paid me a visit." Every muscle in Bucky's body suddenly tenses, and the sick feeling comes back with a vengeance. Steve releases Bucky's hands to instead run his up and down Bucky's arm soothingly, "All she said to me was that I better get my head out of my ass long enough to give you a call, because there had been people in your life who hadn't bothered to make the time." Bucky relaxes when he realizes Natasha hadn't told Steve, while the prospect of telling him himself was daunting, it was something he had to do, it was his past.

"I'm very surprised she didn't threaten to do terrible things to you." Bucky whispers, his voice lacking it's usual strength. Steve's smile is small, and concerned. The adorably sweet 'aw shucks' look that Steve gets on his face next confirms that Natasha had in fact threatened to do terrible things to him. Bucky groans a little, as is customary when your closest friend chooses to meddle through violence, and now that Bucky thinks about it, it's violence the training for her scary Government job could probably accomplish.

The dark of the room and the little space between them makes everything feel a little more safe, a little more protected. It's never been easy or fast for Bucky to calm down when he thinks about...before, but it's...easier with Steve next to him.

The soft admittance of, "You know I love you too, right?" Goes a long way to heal a broken part of Bucky, and he suddenly, viscerally, just wants it all out there, all in the open.

"Steve..." He starts, and has to close his eyes, take a deep breath.

"Hey we don't have to talk about anything right now or ever really. Whenever you're comfortable." Steve kisses their joined hands and it makes the ache in Bucky's chest worse, makes him shake his head.

"No I gotta....you need to know what you're getting into." There is a flash of disapproval on Steve's face, likely due to Bucky making it out like Steve's going to run away the moment he tells him whatever it is. But Bucky can't get rid of the feeling he very well might.

"The last time..." Bucky trails off, frustrated and fighting to figure out how to explain it correctly. Steve just squeezes his fingers gently, encouragingly. "His name was Brock, and he was the first person I ever loved." Bucky closes his eyes, dread filling him. "Natasha introduced us, and I know she still fucking blames herself for what happened, even though it is in no way her fault." He clears his throat, opening his eyes again to gauge Steve's reaction and feeling nervous at the near lack of one, "At first everything was great. He was....he was the love of my life. It was everything it was chalked up to be, you know? All the dumb stories you hear from your married friends or your grandparents about being in love. It was all of that and it was perfect."

"We were together for two years, and I had just moved in with him when things started to change. We got a place, that was honestly way too fucking expensive for us, and that's when the fighting started." Bucky doesn't know whether or not to be worried about the carefully blank expression on Steve's face but braces himself and continues, "It was about money, at the start. I mean, it usually is and I never really thought much of it. He just...became a different person when he got angry like that. I hated it." Bucky feels himself get angry at the memory alone, but shoves the feeling aside, "Then he started to yell at me, before it had just been in general, just like frustration. But then...he started blaming us being short on bills on my job. Said that I should 'fucking do something _worthwhile_ ' with my life."

"It sucked but there were still good times. I mean, I was still in love with him and I think he still loved me, it was just rough." Bucky has to stop and collect himself before he gets to the worst of it, and already the hot press of tears is back, "A couple of months later I found out about the drugs. Money just kept getting tighter and tighter and...it didn't make sense, he worked construction and I got pretty decent pay. All of a sudden it kind of hit me, how he kept being gone for days at a time, the lack of money....I finally asked about it and that was the first time he actually hit me." Bucky catches Steve clench his jaw but otherwise he doesn't react and by the time Bucky can talk again he's crying, "At the time I didn't know it, but I had started to lie to myself. They explained it to me later, in therapy and group. But I just didn't get it. I kept telling myself that just because he hit me every now and then it wasn't a big deal. Except I couldn't see it wasn't love anymore. It wasn't even close. He hit me and used me and it all came to a head when he took the rent money to go buy some coke." The pressure on his hand jumps a little, and Bucky looks up to see Steve with an indefinable expression, but otherwise he stays silent, waiting for Bucky.

Blowing out a breath of air he continues shakily, "I had found out that the landlord hadn't got the money for rent, and we were gonna be evicted that week. At that point I was scared of Brock without even really knowing I was but I was so fucking angry that I texted him about it, said we needed to talk when we got home." Bucky shakes his head, "I didn't even get in the door before he was on me. I can only remember parts of it but he basically beat the shit out of me. Kept screaming that I had been stealing money from him. I remember he said that I stole millions from him, that I had just been with him for all his money and I had stole it and that was why we were getting evicted. He accused me of a bunch of other ridiculous things, and that was when the cops showed." Bucky moves a hand to his shoulder, touching it as he talks, "They told him to open up and that was when he pulled a gun. I didn't even know he owned one, or where he managed to get one. Everything's a little fuzzy after that but I know I managed to get up and start running. The bullet only grazed my shoulder, and the cops got the door down before he could try to fix his aim. I had a shattered nose, a broken collar bone, and severe bruising."

The silence in the room is deathly, and Bucky's afraid. Although for the first time in a long time, the weight in his chest feels lighter. The burden he carries around from having this basically secret terrible past feels more...manageable now that he's shared it with someone else.

Bucky expects a lot of possible reactions from Steve. Natasha had been devastated by guilt that wasn't hers, and full of white hot fury. Bucky doesn't know what Steve's going to do, but a sane person would get the fuck out of there. Bucky isn't prepared for the slight hiccup of breath that sounds deafening in the silence.

There are strong arms around his middle, gently, questioning, pulling him closer and Bucky goes, ends up with his legs tangled with Steve's. There are tears on Steve's face but no pity in his eyes, for which Bucky is grateful. Bucky nearly jumps out of his skin when hands gently slide up his chest, over his shoulders and then to his face, thumbs stroking his cheekbones gently.

Bucky realizes that Steve's checking that he's okay. Even though it happened years ago, Steve's still making sure he was alright, was reassuring himself.

"Bucky." There is a strained, desperate note of pain and anger and love behind the name and the ache in Bucky's chest has morphed into a warm, comforting glow. Bucky forgets to worry about Steve leaving him because of his broken mind and terrible past when Steve starts peppering soft kisses everywhere on his face and one on his shoulder, right over the scar, whispering "I love you." over and over again.

Out of all of the ways that Steve would have responded, Bucky never guessed it would be this one. The residual fear and hate fades into the background with the affection that Steve radiates in his worry. Bucky finds it easy to fall asleep, even with his old ghosts fresh, when wrapped in the feeling of love and comfort.

*

When Bucky finally does wake up the next morning, he's bracing himself to feel half of his bed empty, and an apologetic note saying that it was just a bit too much. What he gets is Steve covering his back with an arm firmly around his middle, holding him tightly even in sleep. And Punk curled up and fast asleep right by his head. Bucky's grin is stupid, he's sure of it, but he just settles back into the warm bed and falls back asleep.

Bucky wakes up again a few hours later, he thinks, judging by the sun. It also feels like that awesome, before noon but not super early sweet spot he usually goes for on weekends. Bucky doesn't even get the chance to worry about the cold, empty spot next to him because he can smell breakfast cooking.

Steve immediately snorts at him when Bucky stumbles into the kitchen, and really there's no other word for it, because Bucky is basically incapable of being a morning person.

"Hey there sunshine, great of you to join the living." Steve's happy sunshine smile is the only response Bucky gets to his half-hearted middle finger. Bucky spends the rest of breakfast with his head head lolling in his hand and watching Steve with all the subtlety of a brick to the face. Mostly Bucky is just...relieved that Steve stayed, that Steve understood and would hopefully continue to do so. On the other hand watching Steve move through his kitchen in sleep shorts and no shirt like it was second nature was it's own form of pleasure. It was also adorable to watch him try to gingerly step around Punk when the little fluffball made it his mission to be underfoot at all times.

Bucky's apartment wasn't big by any standards really, but it wasn't a shoebox either. That didn't save them from the fact that Bucky was terrible at home decor, which Natasha had viciously informed him several times. So when Steve sat down at the tiny table Bucky had in his kitchen they both laughed. There was literally no other option but for their legs to tangle under the table, and Bucky hid his face in his hands to cover his blush.

"You know. I'd probably make fun of you more, but this is literally the first time in two months we've actually sat at the table like decent human beings, so." Steve was smiling like a dope even as he said it, and then they both had stupid looks on their faces when Steve reached across the table and tangled their fingers.

*

Later, when all of the dishes had been washed and they had finished using the soap bubbles as snowballs to throw at each other like five year olds, they migrated into the living room. Steve had gone first, stretching like a cat and saying, "We should watch some Game Of Thrones," on his way out of the kitchen around a yawn. Bucky had stayed behind to put up the plates like a responsible adult.

When Bucky walks into the living room, he runs out of things to worry about. And okay, that's a really fucking big lie if he's being honest with himself. There are still plenty of things for him to worry about, but Bucky suddenly finds caring about them at this exact moment hard.

Steve's standing in front of the entertainment center, probably trying to find the DVD Bucky vaguely remembers tossing in that area. It shouldn't really lead Bucky to such an extreme decision as it does, but well. Steve's singing along terribly to snatches of what sounds like three different songs and absently tapping out a beat against the wooden frame. The mid-morning sun lights up his hair and really, it's unfair, the rest of him in the best way. He looks like art.

Bucky just kind of stands there in the doorway to the living room, staring at the back of Steve's head like a gaping fish for a moment before deciding fuck it, about several, sometimes literal, things. If Steve was going to run, he probably wouldn't be trying to fish out fantasy television they've been trying and failing to watch for the past month between work.

There is no plan, which luckily means that everything that goes wrong is at least not thought out prior, and therefore better than spectacularly ruining a well thought out plan.

Bucky kind of wishes he had a plan.

Steve does not expect Bucky to be as close as he is when he turns around, and so it's an accident when he smacks Bucky upside the head with the DVD case. It wasn't the tiniest bit painful but Steve's face kind of crumples a little and he looks concerned before noticing that Bucky is in fact, mortified. Then of course, he laughs.

"Jesus Bucky. Scared the hell out of me." Another laugh escaped him before he playfully holds the sides of Bucky's face. "You okay though?" It's a light question, but it's not at the same time. Steve's ready to brush it off, if it's nothing, but he's leaving it up to Bucky.

So really. The only thing that Bucky can reply to that with is to get his hands on Steve's ridiculous shoulders and kiss him like his life depends on it. It's nearly ruined by Bucky's smile when Steve makes a surprised but interested sound. It's even better, Bucky decides, when Steve realizes that Bucky isn't just swooping in for a kiss and moves a little closer, gently tips Bucky's head up to deepen the kiss as he did.

It was smooth as fuck. So it had to be followed up with something that really, really wasn't.

At the same time Steve realized that the kiss wasn't a hit-and-run kind of deal he also realized one of his hands wasn't free. Bucky hears the sound of plastic hitting glass, _hard_. It makes Bucky break the kiss to laugh into Steve's chest, trying to breathe when he catches sight of the mess Steve just made.

The case had hit the table alright. And a glass of orange juice. Which had of course, in their infinite luck, tipped right over. Steve's blushing something fierce and Bucky discovers that he doesn't even have to look up to know it, because apparently Steve is a full body blusher and. It's just so fucking cute.

When it feels like Steve's going to move away, to clean up the mess maybe, Bucky mentally shrugs and bites the collarbone at his current eye level in curiosity. The groan it elicits is delightful, so Bucky does it again. And again. Until the hickey that he's pretty dedicated to earns him an outright growl.

Bucky lets himself be herded, and happily meets Steve in a searing kiss.

He really should know by now that walking while distracted is a death sentence.

The edge of the coffee table gets him by surprise and Bucky pretty much sees his life flash before his eyes. Bucky has the time to squeeze his eyes shut and maybe brace for impact a little but it's unnecessary. Steve catches him, and Bucky melts a little at the heat in his gaze.

"You are not getting hurt around me. No. It's prohibited from now on." Bucky wants to make a smart-ass remark but finds himself laid out on the couch with Steve's mouth shutting him up. Bucky surrendered to it, let his hands roam over Steve's back and shoulders, was well on his way to forgetting about anything that wasn't the hot slide of their mouths when Steve pulled back, a challenging tilt to his mouth. "M'serious Bucky." He starts, breaking the kiss entirely, and Bucky honestly whines.

"Steve..." The last thing that Bucky wants right now is a lecture. It's taken them a long time to get here. It's taken _Bucky_ a pretty long fucking time. And now that he's here....well Bucky's enjoying the feeling of being anchored by Steve's weight.

Considering that, Bucky couldn't be blamed for letting Steve, the little fucker, steal another kiss before opening his mouth to lecture him.

Although Bucky really didn't need to hear the same lecture Natasha had given him a thousand times before. So when Steve opened his mouth Bucky smirked and slid his hands down, grabbing Steve's admittedly great ass and tugging.

It had the desired effect. Steve gasped, eyes falling shut with a soft groan when Bucky angled his hips up just right. Just as Bucky was starting to feel smug Steve bent down and sucked right behind the curve of his jaw.

Steve bit and licked until Bucky's gasping and squirming under him, and so he really didn't get the chance to reply as Steve smiled into the skin of his throat, "We're talking about it later."

Bucky just pouted until Steve rolls his hips and all Bucky can do is pant at the ceiling. Bucky looks back to Steve and honest to god whimpers. Steve looked probably as fucked out as he felt, pupils a little blown and a blush high on his cheeks.

Bucky came with Steve whispering encouragement and praise, breathing out a sharp, _"Fuck,"_ and Steve was right behind, going boneless and nearly squashing Bucky into the couch.

Before Bucky could start actually worrying about the irrational idea in his head that Steve would suddenly start laughing and walk out the door and never come back, Steve tightened his arms around him and snuggled behind him on the couch.

Bucky wrinkles his nose, "Steve, come on. We should take a shower." Steve makes an interested noise, and Bucky thought it was a real shame that Steve couldn't see him rolling his eyes.

"That sounds nice Buck, but m'comfy." Steve nuzzles his face into Bucky's neck, as if proving his point. 

With a sigh that definitely sounds more put-upon than Bucky really feels he tucks his feet behind Steve's calves and grabs a blanket from the back of the couch, pulling it over them.

For a little bit, everything is perfect.


	2. Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not even two minutes after Bucky walks through the school doors on Wednesday that a whole gaggle of students basically swarm around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost I just want to sincerely thank everyone who read this. The response to it has been unexpected and mind-blowing and just, thank you. Second of all I'd like to apologize for how long this took to post, but technology decided to not work at the worst time. All mistakes are mine and I'm sorry in advance.  
> I hope you enjoy~

Bucky wakes up warm and content, smiling down at Steve's face mushed into a couch cushion, hair still a little damp from the shower they had taken earlier. The afternoon sun is bright and warm where it's filtering in through the window, and it just makes the comfortable haze Bucky's in even better. 

At least until he tries to roll over and spots Natasha perched on his lounge chair, nonchalantly sipping what looks an awful lot like red wine.

Bucky tumbles off the couch in his surprise.

Steve wakes up with a half-asleep, "Buck?" when Bucky lets out a string of curses from the floor. Bucky just flails a hand above the couch to confirm life and lets Steve tug him up, then smiles like a sap when Steve laces their fingers together. Bucky turns back to Natasha and narrows his eyes.

"How long have you been here, Nat?" Bucky tries not to blush when Natasha's eyes zero in on their joined hands, a smirk blooming across her face. 

Natasha settles back in her chair, and she is the very _definition_ of smug. "Not long, and...Maria told me you had called in. I brought you ice cream just in case....but it looks like you don't need it." Natasha's eyes drift over Bucky's head and he twists around, finding Steve giving Natasha a sheepish smile. 

Natasha gracefully uncoils out of the chair with a dramatic sigh, "Well, seeing as you don't need me I'll get going." Bucky rolls his eyes at her but lets go of Steve to hug her from the floor and doesn't even complain when she kisses the top of his head. With a little wave to Steve Natasha opens the apartment door, winking over her shoulder, "Be safe boys!" 

Bucky groans at his ridiculous friends, knowing deep down that he's not getting off that easy, and leans back against the couch, smiling when Steve sits up behind him, carding his fingers through Bucky's hair.

"I love her to death, but I swear, it's like her life goal to meddle in _my_ life...." Bucky trails off shaking his head. It's silent for a moment, and Bucky's seriously contemplating going back to sleep with the way Steve's fingers feel in his hair.

"You know," Steve starts, breaking the silence, and Bucky can hear the smile in his voice, "Natasha was the one who convinced me to give you my number." 

Bucky tilts his head back, looking up at Steve and raising an eyebrow, probably looking ten kinds of ridiculous. 

The laugh that escapes Steve is a bit self-depreciating and he colors a little as he talks, "I'm apparently pretty terrible at being subtle. Which I _was_ trying very hard to be. I mean, I take my job very seriously and try to do my best for every patient and I still feel bad about how I flirted with you during work It wasn't right and-" Bucky slowly raises his hand as it becomes apparent that Steve isn't gonna stop anytime soon, and puts his palm right over Steve's mouth.

"If I remember correctly, I was attempting to flirt back pretty hard, so calm down. No one in their right mind is going to question your dedication to medical professionalism or whatever." Bucky informs Steve firmly, not moving his hand until Steve rolls his eyes at him and nods. Wiggling to get comfortable on the floor, Bucky grabs one of Steve's hands and puts it back in his hair, giving Steve puppy eyes until he starts playing with it again.

"Anyway," Steve says pointedly, shaking his head when Bucky just smiles innocently up at him, "She cornered me and it was the strangest conversation of my life. She said, 'Do it.' without any lead in. Like she could read my mind. It was kind of terrifying to be honest." Bucky laughs, imaging tiny Natasha cornering Steve and it's not hard to picture, Natasha maintains a certain air of confidence about her that always makes her seem much bigger than she really is.

Bucky pats Steve's stomach in sympathy, and then pats it again, and then leaves his hand there. For all the panic and the fear that would always haunt him, he was still human, and his boyfriend had some nice abs. They sit in silence for a bit, just enjoying the sounds of the city.

"Why did you want to be a doctor?" The question surprises Bucky even as he's asking it, but it just feels like something he needs to know. Steve's hand pauses in his hair and then moves away entirely. The expression on his face is something that Bucky can't pin down.

"My Ma was sick basically all the time when I was younger. I found out later that she had an Immunodeficiency, but at the time we could never really afford the kind of help she needed." Despite the way the conversation was beginning to sound, Steve didn't seem to dim. There was actually a warm edge to his smile. Steve had told Bucky earlier on when they were getting to know each other that his mother had passed away. Explained how his dad had fucked off before he was born and that it had just been the two of them until she had died.

It was something they had unfortunately discovered they had in common, no close relatives in their lives. Considering Bucky's mother had died when he was three, it was a rare and wonderful thing when Steve talked about Sarah Rogers, voice sad but filled with so much love and warmth that it painted a perfectly clear picture of what kind of woman she had been. 

Climbing up on the couch Bucky wraps them both in the fluffy throw blanket he had pulled down earlier and then folds himself around Steve, who simply wrapped his arms around Bucky like it was an afterthought.

"Growing up and watching her get sick and feeling so helpless, watching her fill out insurance form after insurance form, stay on the phone for hours, all for nothing. Not just her either, there was Mr. Clark down the street and Jack Shire's Ma. There were so many people who needed help and couldn't get it for _whatever_ reason and I felt so _useless_." A note of regret is heavy on the words and Steve stops, blowing out a frustrated stream of air. 

"It was hard." Steve starts again, eyes unfocused and staring at a painting on Bucky's wall, "I was nineteen and trying to get through school. I worked two jobs and Ma," Steve shakes his head, "Ma worked _three_. After I told her I wanted to go into Med School she did everything she could to get me through it. She never let me complain about how much she worked." Steve's voice is rough with emotion, and Bucky can feel a lump in his throat at the sound of it, "Every time I'd try to hint at me maybe quitting school until we could afford it she'd stop what she was doing and ask me, _'Did you smile today?'_ and when I'd nod yes she'd wait a few minutes and then go, _'Will you still be smiling in forty years?'_ Even on the days when it was stressful and hard, she knew that no matter what, I loved what I was doing, and always would. It was impossible to argue with her about it." Steve's not crying, but there is a distant nostalgia and loss in his eyes that makes Bucky want to. "That was her whole thing though you know? That no matter what I did, as long as I smiled at least once in the day it was worth it."

"She died during my senior year in college. She'd been sick for weeks and everyone knew it was coming, but nothing prepares you for that. After she passed I was tempted to let everything slip away. It all felt useless because I wasn't able to help the most important person in my life. Without Sam....I would've flunked out of college." There is a brief hint of shame in Steve's eyes before it clears when he looks at Bucky a thoughtful glint in his eyes, "She would've liked you."

Overwhelmed, Bucky presses a kiss to Steve's shoulder, "Thank you." He says softly, touched beyond words that Steve shared that with him. With an easy shrug Steve tries to dismiss it,

"It's true. Though I've been meaning to ask, are you okay? You called into work today and..." Steve smoothly redirects, leaving the question hanging, unsure how to phrase it. The concern clearly translated in his expression does more than words ever could though, really. 

Bucky shrugs as much as he can under Steve's arms, "No matter what I want to be 100% for my kids, their education shouldn't suffer 'cause of my issues, and when I called in I didn't feel like I could give my all today. Still makes me guilty as hell though." At its mention the weight of sick guilt feels a thousand times heavier. But Bucky knew himself, and knew that no matter how blissful the morning had been he wasn't in a good head space to try and teach properly. Maria had assured him that he was perfectly fine, considering he _never_ took off and he had plenty of sick days. 

"I would try and tell you how everyone deserves time off and it's only healthy, but then I'm pretty sure Sam would hear me being a giant hypocrite from across town and kick my ass when I got back to the house." The idea is amusing, but it still bothers Bucky that he doesn't have a face to go with the name.

"So, when am I gonna get to meet Sam?" Bucky prods lightly and is rewarded with a lopsided grin,

"Soon, hopefully. He's basically the closest thing I have to family." Steve the bastard, laughs at the slightly panicked expression that gives Bucky.

"Jeez, no pressure or anything." Steve ribbing Bucky about his apprehension over meeting Sam continues into their attempt to make lunch and not maim themselves. 

Standing in the kitchen, a smear of butter on his nose from Steve being a dork, Bucky looks away from his boyfriend and down to the sandwich he was artfully crafting, smiling to himself. 

"You know." He starts, "I think I will, be okay that is." 

Steve didn't seem bothered by the fact that Bucky said _will be_ instead of _am_.

Bucky was even surprised to find that yeah, he really did feel like he was going to be okay.

*  
It's not even two minutes after Bucky walks through the school doors on Wednesday that a whole gaggle of students basically swarm around him. 

"Good morning guys!" He greets warmly. It had only been a day but he had missed his students.

They all smile and reply back, but oddly they don't start talking like they usually do, about what he missed or even asking if he'd be around after school so he could help a few of them with schoolwork. Bucky finds it a little unnerving when they all just stand there, obviously waiting for something.

"Uh. Do you guys need anything?" He tries, and blinks in shock when Heather groans.

"Come on Mr. Barnes! You have to tell us about Hot Umbrella Guy." The words at first, don't register in a way that make any sense to Bucky. When they do however, it takes supreme effort not to blush likes he's twelve, and instead he opts for slight concern over how what seems to be a good portion of the student body know about Steve catching him after school.

"Hot Umbrella Guy?" The incredulity in his voice sets off another round of exasperated groans. 

Paige waves her phone around, rolling her eyes, _"Yes. The super Hot Guy with the umbrella who was totally waiting for you after school Monday."_ Bucky stares at her.

"Okay. Just so I'm clear, why do all of you care who 'Hot Umbrella Guy' is, and how do you all know about this?" Bucky has slowly been walking toward his classroom, and most of the students he's close with have begun trailing him there.

"Because we wanna know why he looked like a kicked golden retriever? Because you were basically the definition of sadness? And cause Hunter posted it on his Snapchat story." Paige somehow always managed to say things as if they were literally the most obvious things in the world.

Bucky's unpacking his bag and trying to organize himself for the day when he looks up at Hunter, "Wait. You just...took a picture of a stranger?" Hunter shrugs,

"Yeah. I had to. It would've been a crime not to share, I mean honestly, _his face_." While Bucky agrees, he can't help his admonishing frown,

"It's wrong to take pictures of people without their consent, Hunter." Bucky is a smidge proud to see Hunter's shoulders slump as he rubs the back of his neck, clearly sorry. He was a good kid, and had come a long way since his trouble making freshmen year. 

"Off topic." Brendon, from his 7th hour chimes in, sitting on a desk and swinging his legs.

"Please enlighten me as to what you guys are-" Maria knocks on the door, cutting him off as she comes in. It never fails to amuse Bucky how dead silent the kids get around her, just because she's the Principal.

"Your lunch is here Barnes." Maria doesn't say anything else, and there is a worrying gleam in her eye. Bucky must be staring at her dumbly, because there are a few snickers,

"My lunch?" Bucky usually just ran and got something or ate school food, and he didn't remember having ordered anything. Dubiously taking the paper bag, Bucky watches Maria walk back out before curiously opening it.

Gently taking everything out Bucky discovers a neatly wrapped sandwich, what looks like a note, and an itty bitty white flower. Bucky's so busy smiling like a sap that he momentarily forgets about his nosey students.

It's not hard to remember them when the room erupts into cooing noises and awes. 

"Mr. B, that's literally the sweetest thing ever. It's from Hot Umbrella Guy isn't it?" Madison positively beams at him when Bucky just sighs. 

Someone in the room mutters, "OTP." and all the students nod seriously.

"You know." Bucky starts, standing up, "If you guys spent this much time worrying about my _class_ , we'd be through all the material before _September_." The kids laugh, and Bucky takes a second to check his watch, "Okay guys five minutes until first bell, get outta here." 

Paige looks utterly scandalized, , _"You're not even going to tell us what happened?"_

Bucky scoffs, opening the door and ushering them out so they weren't late for class, "It ain't none of your business, punk. Though hey, if everyone gets an A on the final then I'll think about it." 

In honesty their concern was sweet and Bucky really didn't mind all that much. Shutting his door Bucky picks up the flower from his desk, twirling it between his fingers. The soft white petals were fragile and soft under his fingers so he very gently put it in his shirt pocket, where it peeked over the top. Sitting down Bucky picks up the note,

_"I saw this and thought of you. Sam said they were called 'Bloodroot' and that they were supposed to protect whoever recived them._  
Stay safe Bucky,  
Love you."  
*  
A long way down the road, that note eventually found its way onto the wall of Steve and Bucky's apartment, right next to a picture of Steve dripping wet and sitting in a fountain, sheepishly holding out a ring. 

(Natasha had taken it, and it's a little blurry from her laughing. Bucky had grinned so hard it hurt when she'd given him the framed version for Christmas.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back when this epilogue was written I made the decision to leave some loose ends. So expect some little ficlets from this universe in the future when life decides to calm down a little.
> 
> **Update** : I'm on [Tumblr](http://jamesbuckybuck.tumblr.com/) where I would be happy to cry with you about the Brooklyn Boys or what have you. (Prompts. I will always answer prompts.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! <3


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